Ragged School in Lambeth

By the second half of the 19th century the rural idyll that was Vauxhall was well and truly over and replaced largely by desperate folks looking for work, and they brought their kids. Ragged schools were charitable organisations that popped up to educate destitute (hence the name ragged) children who were not allowed in traditional schools. A very significant one existed in what is now Newport St. 

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Local gin/vinegar (that must have been some pretty foul gin) magnate Henry Hanbury Beaufoy funded and founded the school, opening it in 1851 and dedicating it to his wife. Like other Ragged Schools, our Vauxhall branch taught reading writing, bible studies and even ways to emigrate. On the pastoral side, the children were fed and children without parents lived there. A visitor at the time noted – 

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“The attendance in the winter averages about 400 boys and girls every Sunday evening. The gentlemen who manage the Ragged School do everything they can to instruct and encourage the children in well-doing; they make them presents of Testaments and Bibles and give them occasional tea parties. In fact, everything is done to improve them in the school. The patience of the teachers is surprising. The girls are better behaved than the boys; they are the children of very poor people in the neighbourhood, such as the daughters of people selling fruit in the street, and such like, and found several children of street-beggars there”. 

As the Ragged School was built to address the migration of people, the beautiful edifice above also met its fate due to people moving. It was unfortunately flattened just a few decades after its creation as it fell victim of a Vaxuall/Waterloo rail line extension. Curiously, a bit of the building was left standing and is now home to the great but almost never open Beaconsfield Gallery, and its Ragged Café. The school was restablished by Henry’s nephew Mark Beaufoy (the Liberal MP for Kennington at the time) and rechristened as the Beaufoy Institute in Black Prince Road. This building has had many incarnations but it survives. 

You might find it intriguing that the handsome Doulton adorned Beaufoy Institute building below wasn’t just turned into luxury flats when a school there closed a number of years ago. This is again the legacy of the Beaufoys. Lambeth respected the Beaufoy wish that at least half of the land be sold to a non profit organisation. So the old car park in the back was sold to Bellway homes, and the institute is now inhabited by the Diamond Way Buddhist Centre. 

The Little Church that Could

If you’re reading this then you’re a survivor of the total mess that has been the past year. St. Mark’s Church Kennington is another survivor that has narrowly dodged fate over the years and we’re here to give you the story. In case you don’t know, St. Marks is the church across the street from Oval tube and site of the very epicurean Oval Farmers Market

From the 1600’s the area where St. Marks is situated was part of Kennington Common and was a place of notorious public executions. It was also the site of public fairs and boxing matches and gained a reputation as being a pretty dissolute and riotous place. Since there were a huge number of people fundamentally just hanging about and having a party, it attracted a large number of public speakers, many of whom were there to spread the word of God and deliver these doomed revelers from an eternity of damnation. A few centuries later a different kind of reveler there would rejoice at scoring heritage Enoki mushrooms out of season. 

The Duchy of Cornwall sold this corner of Kennington Common, known frighteningly as ‘Gallows Corner’, in 1822 and work commenced on the building we see before us today. The jury is out as to whether a church being placed on this spot was coincidence or design. Over the years the church grew and evolved, reflecting the changing demographic around it. At it’s height it was a hub of the community and served by a vicar, three curates and 250 church workers.  1,500 children were taught in the Sunday Schools by 125 teachers.

Our little church was almost completely destroyed by a direct bomb hit in 1940 and only the Grecian façade, pillars and cupola survived. It was partially restored in 1949 but the Southwark Diocese found further restoration unfeasible and it was earmarked for demolition, as there were more important things to rebuild at the time.  The building remained open to the elements until 1960 when it was sensitively restored. The church now reflects the much more diverse and multicultural environment which it surrounds, and has adapted in ways we all have recently.

“A busy south London crossroads formerly notorious for death and vice has become a place of life and renewal”. 

St. Marks on the left with Kennington (Park) Common in the middle. The building on the right is the famous Horns Tavern, now ‘Job Centre Plus’.

Millicent Fawcett and Vauxhall Park

The research division here at Kennington Runoff have been working overtime (safely, at home) over the festive period to establish and claim feminist writer, politician, trailblazer and suffragette Millicent Fawcett as one of our own, and we think they’ve cracked it. Her many achievements are outlined here and if you’re the attentive sort you’ll be aware that she was the first female honoured with a statue in Parliament square a couple of years ago.

For a number of years Millicent and her equally esteemed husband Henry Fawcett lived in a house in what is now Vauxhall Park. The house included grounds and the couple realised that in an increasingly cramped Vauxhall this was a privilege which they wanted to share with others. Although the genesis of the idea came from Henry, when he died prematurely in 1884 it came down to Millicent and several other people to fashion the reality. 

The Fawcett’s home and gardens extended from South Lambeth Road back quite a bit. Although spacious, the gardens weren’t quite large enough to create a promenading style park, so Millicent and another pioneering champion of the underdog, Octavia Hill, set about purchasing buildings to create a solid, square park. The park was opened by Prince Charles in 1890. And before you throw your laptops out the window, as he was the Duchy of Cornwall the ground beneath the park was (and is) technically his. 

Vauxhall Park doesn’t look so inviting in December, but you get the point

So, you may be asking yourselves ‘now why isn’t there a memorial to the Fawcetts in Vauxhall Park’? Well this is a great local mystery. There was a very fine stature created by the Vauxhall based Doulton factory of Henry (but not our heroine, go figure) and it lived in the park for 70 years. In a moment of characteristic insanity, Lambeth Council took a sledgehammer to the statue in 1960.  Henry Fawcett’s legacy now lives on in the form of Henry Fawcett Primary School in Bowling Green Street. Apparently the bust of Henry in the school is all that remains of the vanquished statue, but this has never been proven.  And when you compare a regal bronze statue in Parliament Square to a chipped bust in a primary school corridor, I think we know who ended up with the better deal.

Fawcett’s legacy lives in the form of the Fawcett Society, which is in Black Prince Road. Their mission is to fight sexism and gender inequality through research and campaigns.  

Regal Cinema and the Winds of Change

Think back to those fondly remembered halcyon days when you could sit in a dark room with other people and laugh out loud. Well those days just aren’t a happenin’ at the minute, but did you know that one of London’s largest and most vital cinemas used to exist in Kennington Cross? 

When the ‘Regal’ cinema opened in Kennington Road in 1937 it was advertised as ‘South London’s new luxury super cinema’. With 2100 seats, the cinema also had a large stage with dressing rooms behind the screen, creating its dual function as a theatre.  The centrepiece was a spectacular 25 foot chandelier and full service cafe on the first floor. 

The Regal survived the Blitz but by the late 1940’s it was suffering as a result of a rapid decline in cinema attendance (we suspect that the proximity to the West End didn’t help). Change was in the wind and it was sold to a larger chain and renamed the ‘Granada’ in 1948. Sadly even the Granada couldn’t make it work and our building was closed as a cinema forever in 1961. 

There aren’t a whole lot of uses for a purpose built building with a massive stage and 2100 seats, but quickly Granada saw where the winds were prevailing – Bingo halls.Our Regal was called ‘Granada Club’ until 1991, when it was sold to Bass Holdings and renamed ‘Gala Bingo’. Some of you readers out there might have even tried your luck. 

The decline of bingo halls in the late 90’s mirrored the decline of cinema 50 years previous, and the Regal was once again left adrift. And by the late 90’s the wind was in the direction of…. The mega church. Regal/Granada/Gala/Church was a place of evangelical worship for just five years until the mega church craze waned and gave way to the next wave….Property developers.

Regal/Granada/Gala/Church finally succumbed to the wrecking ball in 2004. Luckily, by then the building was part of a local conservation area, and Lambeth told the developers they could bulldoze some of the building but had to retain the original facade and entrance to the cinema. The entrance survives as part of our most recent wave of obsession….The mini supermarket.  The rest of the site was redeveloped into what is now the architecturally soulless ‘Metro’ apartments, but inhabited by many lovely locals.

Royal Doulton in Vauxhall

We humans were not built to spend six hours a day on ‘Zoom’ calls (which we are thinking about renaming ‘Co-Vid’ calls) and if you’re working from home it is always good to take a brisk walking break. We recommend having a gander at one of the most striking buildings in our area, the former Royal Doulton Pottery building now known as ‘China Works’.

Royal Doulton was established in Vauxhall Walk but moved to the corner of Black Prince Road and Lambeth High Street where this Gothic wedding cake was erected in 1876. This building is a survivor of a vast Doulton complex which was in use until the 1950’s. The building is cast in red brick with polychromy and an array of terracotta highlights. It was intended as a living advertisement to show off the Doulton product. 

This particular building was used as a museum and art school, and the relief above the door (called a ‘tympanum’, and aren’t we smart) depicts a group of people inspecting some terracotta pots, and a woman with a cat painting one. By the 1870’s Doulton was moving in a more decorative direction with the aid of Lambeth School of Art, which is now City & Guilds of London Art School in Kennington Park Road. It should be noted that almost all of the painting and decorating of the pots was undertaken by women, and was a rare and early example of a skilled craft which women could access. 

The area around the Doulton Factory is about to undergo some very profound and very controversial changes. We don’t make judgements on planning issues on KR but judge for yourself. The building is, thank god, listed and currently occupied by one of those workspace outfits which recently have been popping up like head lice. So our gothic confection is going nowhere, but it might suffer the indignity of having a ‘Franco Manca’ stuck into it one day.

Vauxhall goes Marmite

A picture tells a thousand words #3

The last of our three part mini posts takes us up to Vauxhall. The now rather unprepossessing Westminster Business Square (now the much cooler named Vox Studios) at the corner of Kennington Lane and Durham Street for many years was the London HQ of Marmite.

The Marmite Food Extract Company was formed in 1902 and was based at Burton upon Trent where it had ready access to its main ingredient – a by-product of the brewing process – courtesy of the Bass Brewery. It is still manufactured in the Staffordshire town today.

This ‘Marmite Goes Vegas’ photo was taken in 1951. It closed in 1967. The homeless charity St Mungo’s took on the building for use as one of its first hostels in the 1970s, and now it is one of those flexible workspaces that nobody goes to anymore. It doesn’t look quite as exciting now.

The internet is littered with stories of the smells that came out of the place. People either hated it or loved it (you knew that was coming, right?).

The children of Walnut Tree Place

A picture tells a thousand words #1

If you’re a regular reader then you’ll know that we love old photos of Greater Kennington. We have unearthed three very different photos and over the next three days we will take on little journeys to let you know what they tell us about our community. 

These lovely kiddos were residents of former Walnut Tree Place and the photo was taken in the summer of 1921. If you look closely you can see blackout boards on some of the windows (although obsolete after WW1 ended in 1918). These homes were built during the first half of the 19th century mostly to house the families of people who worked in factories along the Thames. 

Poor housing conditions became a pressing issue after WW1 and these homes were torn down by London County Council not long after this picture was taken. Between 1928 and 1934 the homes were replaced by what is now the China Walk Estate on the south side of Lambeth Road. The buildings were named after renowned China manufacturers. Walnut Tree Place has changed quite a bit in the past 99 years.

That funny house in Kennington Park

You have doubtlessly walked or run by these little brick cottages in Kennington Park a million times, but have you ever stopped to wonder what it is or how it ended up there? Well, dear reader, consider yourselves to be demystified. 

The first clue to our mystery is the inscription ‘Model Houses for Families Erected by HRH Prince Albert’ on the side that faces the street. We doubt that Prince Albert himself took off his ermine lined gloves to build the edifice but with the Prince as patron, it was erected by the ‘Society for Improving the Conditions of the Labouring Classes’ for the Great Exhibition in 1851. The cottage was located outside of the exhibition grounds in Hyde Park and entry was free, unlike the Exhibition itself. After the Exhibition closed, the cottages were moved to our sanctified patch of green and became a minor Victorian tourist attraction.

The model cottages were designed to house four families, with two flats on each level. It was envisioned that the cottages would provide suitable accommodation for people from “the class of mechanical and manufacturing operatives who usually reside in towns or in their immediate vicinity”. Each family was designated a living room, kitchen/scullery, three bedrooms and a toilet – but no bathroom, as was still generally the case in houses built at the time.  What we see in our park was a protoype, and it’s unknown whether any were actually executed. 

Since 2003 the cottages have been inhabited by the wonderful charity ‘Trees for Cities’ so it isn’t open to the public.  However, have a spin around it and contemplate that this one little building was meant to house at least 16 people. It makes you appreciate the era we’re in.    

From workshops to squatters – a social history of the Pullens estate

If you live in Walworth, or just walk through it, you’ve probably noticed a very fine example of Victorian tenement style dwellings in Penton Place. These are the remaining buildings of the Pullens estate. They have a very curious history, boys and girls, and we’re going to tell you about their history of workmen and squatters rights. 

The Pullens estate was made of 684 almost identical one bedroom dwellings with 106 workshops behind (in Clements, Pecock and Illfie Yards, which remain). This was an early version of a live/work space as most of the people worked in the workshops and cobbled streets behind the buildings.  This contrasts with the later Peabody dwellings which just focused on housing families. While the dwellings proved wildly popular, not a great deal is known about the workshops.  

Zoom ahead to the 1977 and, in the eyes of Southwark, the estate was in serious decline and they wanted it demolished. After a high court battle half of the estate was demolished and half remained. The battle emboldened the residents, who formed a tight knit community in order to fend off future threats. To combat this, Southwark decided to stop letting out properties as they became vacant. With the support of the Tenants Association, the properties were given over to squatters who acted as caretakers. During two drawn out legal procedures in the 1980’s over threatened evictions, public interest in the plight of the squatters grew and it gained national attention. 

By 1986 Southwark had enough, and on 10 June the bailiffs moved in to evict the squatters. The residents were prepared, and many barricaded their homes against forced entry. 26 people were evicted, but as the bailiffs did not understand the unique layouts of the buildings, many just shifted their belongings and moved back in again. This became known at the ‘Battle of the Pullens’. Negotiations followed afterwards which led to the squatters being awarded caretakers rights and plans to demolish the rest of the estate were abandoned. The association were also responsible for turning the site of a demolished building into a park. It is now Pullen’s Gardens and a lovely place for a spot of lunch.